


Trust Me with You

by cardinalgirl75



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, a hint of danger, for the smut swap, jaime looking sexy AF in a suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29354781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalgirl75/pseuds/cardinalgirl75
Summary: “Trust me,” he whispered in her ear.  “Trust me with you.”
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 52
Kudos: 118
Collections: The Exchange that was Promised: Jaime x Brienne Smut Swap 2021





	Trust Me with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyRhiyana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/gifts).



> For Lady Rhiyana, whose works have made me smile a lot this year.
> 
> Based on the prompt " Kevin Costner + The Untouchables and look at *the suit*". I hope I picked the right one.
> 
> [The Suit](https://bamfstyle.com/2014/02/21/untouchables-ness-gray/)

Casterly Rock was the most imposing structure Brienne had ever seen. She’d grown up on the other side of the realm, on an island that she suspected could fit inside of this monolith with room to spare. She’d been there twice before—once so the press could see the Lannisters paying their debts to the woman credited with saving Jaime’s life, and once when she’d accepted the quest to find Sansa Stark, the girl the Brotherhood had mistaken her for on the ill-fated day of the kidnapping. Both times she’d been here, Jaime had been with her as a guide and for support. 

Tonight, she would walk into the lion’s den alone.

Brienne clutched the invitation tightly in her right hand. It wasn’t hers. As exclusive as this event was, Brienne didn’t know how the Brotherhood managed to finagle an invitation. She supposed it didn’t matter. Their instructions were clear, as was their threat. If she failed, an innocent boy would die. And there would be plenty of eyes on her tonight to make sure she didn’t try to warn Jaime or any of the other Lannisters about the Brotherhood’s plans.

The first set of eyes belonged to the man driving the luxury sedan up the long driveway to Casterly Rock’s main entrance. He hadn’t spoken to Brienne during the trip here, but his eyes said everything. He brought the car to a stop and jerked his head at the door, indicating that she should get out of the car. She was tempted to say something about how it would look less suspicious if he were to open her car door, but the faster she got out of there, the better.

Brienne threw open the car door, carefully gathered the long skirt of her green dress in her hands and stepped out. She shut the door, let the skirt fall back to her ankles, and looked up at the balcony overlooking the front door. There were several people gathered, talking and laughing and enjoying drinks and little hors d’oeuvres. For a second, she thought she glimpsed golden hair in the glow of the soft lights.

_Jaime._

Brienne took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. She was stopped at the front door by a man taller and larger than her with a menacing expression in his eyes that might have frightened her under ordinary circumstances. As it was, she gave him what she hoped was an imperious glare and handed over her invitation when ordered to do so. He looked like he wanted to refuse her entry but instead waved her inside.

There were a few people lingering in the long corridor that led to the ballroom. Brienne recognized a couple of them—Jaime’s cousin Addam Marbrand, who smiled at her as she passed by, and the Lannisters’ man of publicity, Varys, whose inscrutable face told her nothing about his thoughts on her presence here tonight. She figured he knew she wasn’t on the official list, but he’d likely think Jaime slipped her an invitation in spite of his father and twin and would say nothing.

Brienne reached the ballroom, a cavernous room decorated in what Brienne would tactfully call extravagant and Jaime would bluntly say was gaudy. It was better suited to the previous decade’s habit of wretched excess rather than this decade’s more frugal practicality. The golden wood of the floor was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the light of the crystal chandeliers suspended from the gold-painted ceiling. The walls were papered in a gold leaf pattern and decorated here and there with pictures of long-dead Lannister ancestors. At the opposite end of the ballroom from Brienne, a winding staircase led to the second floor and the family’s living quarters. Between her and the other staircase were the crème de la crème of Westeros society, being catered to by various servants.

In one area of the room, standing among a clump of men, was Cersei Lannister, proclaimed “The Light of the West” in the society pages of newspapers owned by the family. Outwardly, Brienne supposed the appellation was appropriate. No one shined quite like Cersei, especially tonight in her gold silk Madeleine Vionnet original, which draped fluidly around her body in a way that left little to the imagination. Inwardly was another story. Cersei was too occupied flirting with her admirers to notice her, but Brienne took no chances and kept as much distance between them as possible.

The other concentration of guests was primarily female. Standing at its center was Jaime, and dear gods, he looked otherworldly. The last time she’d seen him, when he’d sent her to find the missing Sansa Stark, he’d still been recovering from the aftereffects of their kidnapping—pale, emaciated, his face still bruised from the severe beating he’d taken after he’d kept their captors from violating her when they’d realized she wasn’t Sansa. 

Tonight, his golden curls were perfectly tousled, as though a woman had just run her hands through them, and his green eyes sparkled with amusement and not a little mischief. Rather than the formal wear of a black tailcoat or dinner jacket, Jaime wore a gray-blue three-piece suit with a foulard tie of red with blue squares. The suit was tailor-made for his body and there wasn’t a woman in the room who didn’t notice. Brienne _knew_ Cersei and Tywin had to be furious, but they’d say nothing to him, at least not in public. They would save their caustic remarks for later, when everyone was gone.

In one corner of the room, a string quartet played an elegant tune loud enough to be heard over the fray without drowning it out. Brienne’s stomach lurched when she saw them. Hard to believe that two nights ago, the men able to play such beautiful music were using a harmless boy as a punching bag, telling her that if she didn’t complete her mission tonight, they’d kill him slowly before coming for her.

Problem was, if she _did_ complete her mission tonight, she knew she wouldn’t want to live. But the boy would be saved. She had to remember that if she accomplished nothing else with this betrayal, the boy would live.

Brienne debated how best to approach Jaime. She was on the periphery of the ballroom and knew if she stepped into the light, she would be noticed right away by either Tywin or Cersei. She would be discreetly escorted out long before she got near him. Same with asking one of the servants to inform him that she was there, as they were all in Tywin’s employ.

An idea came to Brienne at last. She left the ballroom through one of the discreet doors placed near the staircase which she was pretty sure led to the library. She slid into the room and closed the door behind her. Although there were no lamps on in the room, there was a fire burning in the fireplace to ward off the chill in the air and provide light. When Brienne saw the floor-to-ceiling shelves brimming with books, she breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to the massive desk and took out pen and paper. 

_Meet me in the library. It’s urgent. –B_

Brienne’s hands trembled so much that it took her three tries to write the note, but it was finally done. She folded the paper and walked back to the ballroom, her eyes darting this way and that. Her eyes were instantly drawn to him, holding court on one side of the room while his sister held sway on the other.

Brienne walked along the edges of the room, looking for her opportunity to slip Jaime the note. When she spied the small man leaning against one of the gold pillars, a half-empty snifter of brandy in his hands, she knew she’d found it. She approached Jaime’s younger brother Tyrion with her request, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. The expression on his face made her think he knew exactly what she planned, but he agreed to take her note to Jaime, and she returned to the library to wait.

She walked to the window and wondered who lurked in the shadows. Tywin Lannister’s men, to be sure, because a man like him didn’t throw a party like this without plenty of protection. Much good those men would do when the true danger was able to slip into their home unnoticed. The Brotherhood? Perhaps, waiting on the edges where the Lannister guards couldn’t see them. They were too cowardly to risk a full-on assault, even though she knew leadership talked about making an example of the “rich fuckers on parade” so that people would know about their cause.

The door to the library opened slowly. Brienne steeled herself to face him, knowing the guilt must be written on her face, knowing if she couldn’t calm down that poor little Podrick would die.

“You look good in the moonlight,” Jaime said as he closed the door. “You could almost be a beauty. I’ve always thought so.”

Once upon a time, Brienne would’ve sold her soul to the Stranger to hear Jaime say this, even if it wasn’t true. “Don’t flatter me, Jaime,” she replied. “I have a mirror.”

“I’m not flattering you. You know that’s not my style.” He moved over to her. “Your dress…”

Brienne looked down at the floor-length evening gown in emerald green silk given to her by one of the Brotherhood’s women. It was the loveliest dress she had ever worn, one that might rival Cersei’s. If the circumstances were different, Brienne would feel almost pretty. The loose bodice dipped low in front, revealing hints of her small breasts, and dipped lower in the back. The skirt had a slit in the front which would come in handy if she had to run, but the train might cause her problems. “It’s…um…a…a friend gave it to me,” she said, grateful for the dim light which she hoped hid her blush. She’d never been a good liar.

“It’s lovely. Would’ve been better in blue, but you look nice in green.”

“T-thanks.” She breathed in and out a couple of times and stared down at her feet, clad in impractical gold shoes. “Like I said in my note…”

“I think we both know why you sent me this note,” Jaime said, and he was far too close to her now, invading her senses the way he always did. “And it has nothing to do with talking about what you found in the Riverlands.”

She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “What do you—”

Jaime cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

Brienne had only been kissed one other time in her life, and it was nothing like this. _That_ time had been a mashing of lips together, and the guy attempting to worm his tongue into her mouth. She’d been so disgusted that she’d flung him away from her.

 _This_ time, however, was something entirely different. Jaime was always so forceful and driven that she expected his kisses to be the same, but instead his lips were soft on hers. And she shouldn’t do this. She was about to betray him. She _had_ betrayed him just by showing up tonight. The last thing she should do is let him kiss her, or let him run his fingers through her hair, or open her mouth enough so that his tongue could search out hers. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she needed to stop.

_The Brotherhood could be outside the door now or looking in the window…oh…_

Jaime’s hands drifted to the thin straps of her green dress. Brienne gasped at the feel of his hands on her almost bare shoulders. She pulled away from his kiss and whispered, “Jaime…” She meant to tell him to stop, to say what she needed to say to get him out of here and deliver him to the Brotherhood, but instead she said, “Not in front of the window.”

Which was the _last_ thing she should say.

His lips curved into a wicked smile as his eyes sparkled with mirth. She knew he wanted to make some jape, but instead he drew her back into the room, toward the crackling fireplace. “Is this better?” he asked as he faced her, his face even more handsome in firelight than it had been in moonlight.

“I…” She didn’t get to say more as Jaime pulled her flush against him and kissed her again. She felt the strength of him against her body, the hardness of his…she blushed to think of the word…his _cock._ He was hard for _her._ There was no mistaking his arousal for anything other than what it was. He wanted her.

And gods help her, she wanted him enough to forget that tonight would end in betrayal, and that she would make it even worse by doing this with him.

Jaime’s hands drifted to the straps of her dress again, over and then under and then sliding them from her shoulders. The bodice of her gown dipped lower, revealing the tops of her small breasts to his gaze. Brienne knew the moment Jaime realized that she wasn’t wearing a brassiere underneath because his eyes lit up.

“Daring.” His hand brushed the top of her left breast, then dipped beneath the fabric to cup it fully. She gasped when his thumb stroked her nipple, sparks of pleasure rippling through her. “You like that,” he whispered in her ear right before he kissed the sensitive flesh beneath it.

_“Yes.”_

Jaime worked her arms free of the straps and the bodice fell, leaving her nude to the waist. Brienne’s hands automatically went to cover her breasts, but he said, “Don’t. Let me see you.” When she still hesitated, he added, “Please.”

She lowered her hands and tried to work up the courage to ask if she could see him. But almost as if he heard her, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor. His fingers went to his vest and made quick work of the six buttons, then his tie. It wasn’t until he started unbuttoning his white dress shirt that Brienne noticed that his fingers were trembling.

She expected him to stop undressing once he had his shirt off, but then he undid his belt and slid it off. His shoes, pants, and underclothes were gone in a matter of moments, and then Jaime stood before her completely naked, golden in the firelight, looking like every fantasy she’d had of him come true. Her eyes were drawn to his cock, which stood out proud from a nest of golden hair at the juncture of his thighs. She’d never seen one fully erect before and it was quite a difference from the accidental peeks she’d gotten in the past.

Before she looked her fill, however, Jaime dropped to his knees before her and looked up at her with intent but also with a question in his eyes. Brienne nodded her consent to whatever he was about to do.

Jaime lifted the train of her dress up enough to slip off her sandals, which he tossed aside. His hands moved to the waistband of her dress, sliding it past her hips so it landed in a heap of green silk at her feet. She stepped back long enough for him to grab the dress and throw it in the direction of his clothes.

Although Brienne’s dress was too low-cut to permit a brassiere, she was able to wear a roll-on girdle with garters and stockings. She hooked her thumbs into the top of the girdle and wriggled it down her body. She knew she looked foolish, but she didn’t care. Once she was completely nude, she knelt beside him on the bearskin rug.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted shyly.

The smile he gave her was unlike anything she’d ever seen on his face—tender and affectionate and ever so slightly amused. “I know.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Do you trust me?”

She wanted to cry because she knew he trusted her, and he shouldn’t. “Yes,” she whispered, because it was true.

“Good.” He kissed her fiercely. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lowered her to the rug. He shifted until his body was on top of hers, his thighs parting her legs. She felt the hard length of his cock against her as they continued kissing.

Jaime’s hands explored the mounds of her breasts, the firm skin of her stomach, the almost imperceptible curve of her hip. Each touch made her crave more. He rolled his hips into hers and she gasped at the sensation, so he did it again. Brienne clutched at his back as she felt his fingers move between them, touching the damp curls between her legs and then sliding between the slick folds.

“Jaime!” she cried out.

She got only a quick glimpse of a feral smile before he kissed her again, his fingers brushing against _something_ that sent sparks of wildfire racing through her. “Tell me, Brienne, have you ever done this? Touched your cunt like this?”

She shook her head wildly.

“Hmm.” Jaime brushed that place again and she arched up into his touch when suddenly, it was gone. He rolled to her right side, took her hand, and guided it to her heated flesh, his fingers over hers. “This is your clit,” he said, and she felt the nub against her fingertips. She gasped at the sensation, wanting to drown in it. “Feels good?”

“Gods, yes,” she whimpered as their entwined fingers moved in slow circles around her clit. She felt something building deep inside her as Jaime moved her hand lower. 

“In just a little bit, my cock is going to be in here.” He pressed one of her fingers _inside,_ and while she wasn’t a complete innocent—she’d heard plenty of talk among men and occasionally between women to know what the act itself involved—she was still shocked at the intrusion.

Shocked that it was _her_ hand there, doing this, with Jaime beside her, and then one of his fingers slid inside, joining hers, and she gasped again.

“I’m going to make this good for you,” he promised as his finger slid out only to press back in. She caught onto this and her finger moved in time with his as she spread her legs wider. “Touch yourself, Brienne.”

Brienne was confused—wasn’t she already touching herself? But he pulled her finger free and moved it back to her clit, only to plunge two of his thick, calloused fingers into her. She bit back a scream as he slid them in and out while she returned to the circling motion that seemed to bring her the most satisfaction. The pleasure built and built until finally she flew over the edge with a startled cry.

When she came back to herself, Jaime was still beside her. She was surprised because he wasn’t the most patient man in the world, but he had yet to do anything to seek his own pleasure, only seen to hers. Brienne sat up enough to reach her arm around his neck and pull him down to her, and that was all the encouragement Jaime needed. The next thing she knew, she had her arms full of him, his thighs were spreading her legs wide, and the blunt head of his cock slowly pushed inside. In spite of everything, she tensed, and he went still. “Trust me,” he whispered in her ear. “Trust me with you.”

 _Trust me with you._ She’d never trusted anyone with herself, having learned long ago to guard her heart with even more ferocity than she guarded her body. Jaime wasn’t asking her to trust him to take care with her, because they both knew he would.

He was asking for her heart and looking to her for confirmation.

_Do you trust me?_

She nodded again. His right thumb brushed against her clit and she let out a soft moan and felt herself relax. Jaime slid the rest of the way inside. It didn’t hurt, not like her old septa used to swear it would if some man ever got up the nerve to take her virginity. Rather, she felt a strange fullness deep inside her.

It was Jaime. _Jaime_ was the one inside her, and on top of her, his body braced on his elbows, his green eyes looking down at her so intently that she felt as though all her secrets were laid bare before him.

_Trust me. Love me. Be with me._

She trusted him. She loved him. And if only for this moment, she was with him.

Brienne reached up to brush back an errant, damp curl from his forehead before bringing his head down to kiss him. She wasn’t sure she was doing it right, but he didn’t seem to mind as he moaned into her mouth.

Jaime started out slow. It was odd at first, feeling him slide in and out of her, thicker than their combined fingers had been. She put her arms around his back and felt him tremble slightly, and she realized—he was doing everything he could to keep himself in control. He was being careful with her.

She didn’t want him to be.

Jaime lowered his head to her right breast and his mouth closed over the nipple. He bit it lightly with his teeth and she cried out as she clenched around his cock. “Please,” she moaned. “Please, more.”

Jaime’s thrusts sped up. Brienne’s hips began to move of their own volition, and she soon caught his rhythm, her legs sliding up to his waist, and the change in the angle sent him deeper into her. She cried out as the familiar pleasure coiled deep inside her, stronger and stronger, and Jaime buried his head in her neck as his lower body continued to move ever faster. She knew her cries were getting louder and thank gods there was a large crowd and music outside this door because if there weren’t, everyone in the world would hear her.

“Oh gods,” Jaime groaned in her ear, and with a few more frenzied thrusts, she felt a strange warmth rush into her and an odd sense of disappointment that she had not reached that peak again, with him this time. 

Jaime collapsed on top of her, his strength sapped. If Brienne were a smaller woman, he’d be crushing her now. But she was glad she was strong because it meant she could handle Jaime’s weight. She relished the feel of him on top of her like this, their bodies slick, their arms and legs entwined together, still joined in the most intimate of places. She wanted to stay like this forever.

Tears formed in her eyes because she knew they would never be like this again. Any minute now, she’d have to tell the lie that would lead him out of his nameday celebration to his doom.

_His nameday will also be his death day._

“Mmm.” Jaime moved his head slightly, nuzzling at her neck. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to come before you did again. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said.

“It isn’t, but I’ll make sure you’re taken care of later.” She felt him smile against her neck. “I didn’t hurt you?”

She shook her head, knowing if she said anything, he’d know something was wrong.

“I know you won’t believe me, but I’ve dreamed of this for a long time.” He huffed out a small laugh. “Maybe not in my family’s library, although the fire’s nice. But ever since you left to try and find out what happened to the Stark girl…I’ve dreamed of you.”

He’d dreamed of her. Brienne closed her eyes as the tears fell. _I can’t betray him, but I can’t let Pod die._

“Jaime,” she said, her voice breaking as much as her heart. “I have to tell you something.”

Jaime raised himself on his elbows and frowns. “You can tell me anything.”

Brienne pushed against him gently. He pulled away from her and rolled to the side as she sat up. “This…what just happened…isn’t why I sent you the note.” She sniffled. “I…I didn’t come to the party just to see you. I was ordered here. By the Brotherhood. To…to…” Her breath came too hard for her talk and she pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart beat so fast that she wondered if she was going to die now. 

“I know.” Jaime sat up as well.

In the throes of panic, Jaime’s words didn’t register. Brienne felt dizzy and put her head down, but just when she was convinced she’d pass out, Jaime took her chin in his hands, raised her head, and kissed her. She was lost in the kiss. It was probably the last one they’d ever share. It didn’t matter if somehow they both survived the wrath of the Brotherhood, Jaime would never trust her again and…

Jaime broke away and stroked her left cheek with his thumb. “Brienne. I know.”

Brienne’s hand came up to cover Jaime’s. “You know? How do you know?”

“The cellist decided to double-cross the Brotherhood.” Jaime’s eyes went hard with anger. Brienne waited for him to flay her with the cold, biting sarcasm that had been present in every interaction they’d had in the beginning. “He told me everything, though I suspect my father told him to say nothing. He told me that you were willing to die for me.” 

With a shudder, Brienne remembered the gun pressed to her temple, the click of the gun’s trigger once, twice, then three times, one word said over and over to her. _Choose._ She’d refused to do so, which had spoken her choice loud and clear. And then…

“Dammit, Brienne, _why_ did you do that? I’m not worth dying for!” 

“I didn’t agree,” she said in a small voice. 

“Until they brought out the boy. I wanted to kill that man when he said it was what they did to the boy that made him turn traitor rather than what they did to an innocent woman.” Jaime sighed. “Why was he with you?”

“Tyrion sent him to me. Podrick and Sansa had formed a friendship of sorts in King’s Landing, you see, and Tyrion thought she’d be more likely to trust me if Pod was there. Only we never found her, and the Brotherhood found us. I thought Pod got away but then they…” Brienne broke down crying. Jaime wrapped his arms around her and murmured soothing words in her ear. 

The grandfather clock chimed, making Brienne flinch. She pushed away from Jaime, stood up, and felt something trickle down her legs. She realized what it was and blushed, but she couldn’t be deterred now. “We don’t have much time.”

“We have all the time in the world.” Jaime crawled over to the pile of clothes, dug into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief. He waved it at her. “To take care of yourself.” 

Brienne stared at him in disbelief. “Are you mad? The cellist may be your father’s man now, but the rest of them are the Brotherhood’s.” She picked up her dress from the pile of clothes and was about to wrestle her way back into it when she realized why Jaime had gotten the handkerchief. Her face felt hot as she snatched it out of his hands and cleaned herself before she stepped back into her dress. “And there’s another man—”

“The man who brought you here,” Jaime finished. 

Brienne stopped with the bodice bunched at her waist. “How do you know that?” 

“I saw you arrive. I was on the balcony waiting for you. I was going to intercept you before you got into the ballroom, but I suppose you saw why I couldn’t.”

Brienne thought of Jaime standing in the circle of women, so beautiful in his grey-blue suit, and nodded.

“You don’t have to worry. The man’s been taken care of. As for the rest of the string quartet, well, let’s just say that they won’t be collecting their payment for this evening.”

“You may think you’ve gotten them all, but you haven’t.” Brienne pulled the straps of the dress over her shoulders and adjusted the bodice. “They’re smart enough not to engage your father’s guards here. It was why they sent me in, because they knew…” _They knew you’d trust me._ “They’re out there. They’re waiting.”

“The cellist gave up the location of the Brotherhood’s camp. The boy was rescued before you ever got here.” Jaime rose to his feet. “Right before I came in here, Tyrion let me know that the doctors think he’s going to be fine.”

Brienne flushed with shame as realized that Tyrion _had_ known what she’d planned for Jaime when she’d given the note to him. “He must hate me. Your whole family…”

“They’re not happy,” Jaime admitted. “And Tyrion thinks I’m crazy, but I told him that if I were in your situation, I’d have done the same thing to save a kid. Besides.” Jaime kissed her gently. “I knew you’d tell me.”

She couldn’t argue that she didn’t come in here with the intention of telling him, because…well, she _had_ told him, hadn’t she?

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“No. _I’m_ sorry. I should’ve known that something like this might happen if I sent you out there looking for Sansa, but we both know what would’ve happened if we’d taken the matter to my father.”

Of course, she knew. She suspected that Sansa ran from King’s Landing because she’d caught wind of Tywin’s plan to marry her to Jaime, thus giving Tywin a stake in the Winterfell oil fields. Jaime had sent Brienne to investigate a couple of leads they had on where she might have gone so that he could work on convincing his father he had no intention of marrying Sansa. Ever.

“She’s still out there. I heard a rumor that she might be in the Vale, but the Brotherhood caught me before I could follow up on it.”

Jaime smiled. “Good. First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going to sneak out of here and follow up on that lead.”

“We? Tomorrow morning?” Brienne asked, confused.

“Yes, _we_ will leave _tomorrow morning._ Right now, we’re going to sneak out of this library to the family wing by taking the hidden passage behind that bookcase over there.” He pointed to the shelves over her shoulder. “That will take us to my bedroom, where we will spend the rest of the night making up for lost time.” She shivered slightly at his words. “Then tomorrow morning, we’ll make our getaway to the Vale. Once we’ve found Sansa and gotten her to her brother at the Wall…” Jaime walked over to her, desire clouding his eyes. “Then, Miss Tarth, we’re going to a remote island in the Stormlands, where you’ll introduce me to your father. I’ll ask him for your hand in marriage, and we’ll spend the next fifty years of our lives hiding out from the rest of the world.”

Brienne wanted to believe him. She wanted it more than she wanted air to breathe, but she’d been through so much in the last six months that she no longer knew what it was like to believe that something good could happen to her. She couldn’t believe that his plan would work because there were too many forces working against them. She couldn’t believe that someone who was as beautiful as Jaime would want to spend the next fifty seconds with her, much less the next fifty years, especially after she nearly betrayed him.

Jaime stepped closer, not quite touching her, his eyes earnest. “Trust me with you.”

Brienne nodded and took the last step forward, pressing her forehead to his. “I trust you,” she said, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to our amazing mods, bussdowntarthiana and wildlingoftarth, for putting this exchange together!!!
> 
> As always, a million kudos to my beta, waxedpaperdoor for reading through this.
> 
> And finally--thanks to Roccolinde, who gave me some good advice when I found myself at a crossroads with what direction I wanted to take on this story. At some point soon, I plan to post the other direction this story might've taken at that crossroads. :)


End file.
